Born To Be Mild

Mood: accomplished

Soundtrack: Here’s to You - Rascal Flatts

Time for an update on the kids.

Emily turned 2 yesterday and she is talking up a storm!  If you ask her if she’s a monkey, she’ll say, “I’m not a monkey…I’m EMILY!”  She loves to pretend to talk to people on the phone and sing songs.

Geoffrey is quickly approaching his 5th birthday and is thisclose to reading.  He enjoys doing mazes and connect the dots and plays search-and-find games on his computer that is not only improving his mental and visual acuity, but also expanding his vocabulary.

I love these kids.  They are my world.

Mood: Shocked

Soundtrack: Big Comfy Couch on TV

I’m actually posting here!!!  I seem to have made my livejournal my main blog, but I will endeavor to make this blog more family-centric…so prepare yourselves for cuteness!

Geoffrey is coming up on his 5th birthday and he astounds me with his skills and intelligence, as well as his generosity and kindness.

Emily is fast approaching her second birthday and has now started to respond in kind when you tell her you love her.  She says, “I lub you too!”  She is a very physical child and so inquisitive. 

Jim and I are separated and taking some time to reflect on what we want for our lives.  Whatever happens, I want Jim to be happy.  And he seems to finally be finding some happiness.  And he is finally seeing how wonderful our children are.  That alone is worth the difficulties.

I am working at a very physical job.  They are still trying to work the kinks out while ownership changes hands, so I’m hoping things will settle down into a routine soon.

That is all.

A strong-willed herald of causes against injustice, you passionately strive to right the wrongs around you.

Somebody has to save our skins!

Leia is a character in the Star Wars universe. See her character entry at the Star Wars Databank for more information.

Mood: tired

Soundtrack: tower hum

Just a quick update… I’m almost 2 months post-op and I’m still swollen, sore and bruised.  Ouch.

In other news, I’ve been very productive creativity-wise, ended an unhealthy relationship (I’d call it a friendship, but that would be insulting to my friends) and have started on my Super Secret Surprise Garb for the New Year’s Masque.

That is all.  You may go about your business.

Mood: wide awake and woozy
Soundtrack: BBC on the tube

My surgery went well today, although I was subjected to stereotypical hospital efficiency.

I arrived at the hospital 2 hours prior to my surgery time, as per the doctor’s instructions.  Pretty much from the moment I got there, I cursed my forgetfulness, knowing that my stitching was right beside my desk - at home.  The nurses were quite nice and processed my paperwork quickly, leaving me with even more time to sit and twiddle my thumbs until 11:45 rolled around, promising a respite from the tedious waiting.  They gave me meds for my stomach and anti-inflammatories, to reduce swelling during the surgery itself.  I was told to ask the nurse for a liquid med at 11:30, as it had a short life span once taken.  I reported to the nurses station, was given a plastic cup full of clear liquid and told to “hang onto it and drink it once they call your name.  Oh, and it tastes bad.”  Ooh, now I really want to drink it!
So I got to spend the next hour and a bit sitting in a sterile 4 bed hospital room-come-waiting area, wearing overlapped (need I say horrid?) hospital gowns and paper booties, watching the same 10 minute loop of CTV NewsWorld ad nauseum and clutching a liquid medicine that I can only liken to pouring a liquefied salt lick and rancid lemon juice down your gullet.  I pacified myself with a home decor magazine that spouted page after page of “Simple living”, all the while showing rooms filled with white furniture, delicate orchids and $2500 cabinets.  Yeah, real simple.  Obviously, none of these people have even entertained the thought of children.  I guess children are passé, so “last year”…the new fashion accessory being the mop-like little rats that rich people call their dogs “fur-babies”.  Ugh.
My saving grace was that Alex arrived in time to sit with me prior to being called in.  It was so reassuring to me that there was a friendly face waiting with me, one final comforting hug and squeeze of the hand and the knowledge that someone was waiting for me when I woke up.

At 12:55 pm, the nurse led me to the surgical area where I had to sit and wait again.  Did I mention that the painful lump was IN MY ASS?  Sitting is so much fun, let’s do it on awkward hospital chairs!  The anesthetist, Dr. O, introduced himself by name, but neglected to tell me what his job was, nor did he say a word about whether I would be knocked out or merely sedated.  Nothing like walking into an operating room without a CLUE as to what I should expect…

Dr. M came over after about 10 minutes, Sharpie ™ in hand.  I lifted the hem of my glamorous hospital pinny and she felt my butt, palpating the lump and saying, “That’s really deep” to no-one in particular.  She drew a dotted line (get it?  ‘Open on dotted line’ *groan*) and I asked her if she could remove the other lump on that side while she was in there.  No luck.  Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying to get a 2-for-1 deal, can you?

After that, I was whisked away to the soothing, all-white, cold, sterile (which was a GOOD thing!) operating room.  The bed was set up to look like the site of a lethal injection, arm boards splayed out in a giant cross shape.  Let me tell you, that really set my mind at ease…

Dr. O hooked up an IV and attached all the monitoring equipment and I just tried to breathe deeply, letting my mind fill with light and warmth and my children’s faces.  He said the anesthetic would sting going in and I told him nothing stings worse than childbirth.  This garnered agreement and laughs from the female personnel present.  Then my head started swimming and I said, “Whoa, that stuff works FAST!” and promptly blacked out.

The next thing I remember was struggling to open my eyes and hearing a woman calling, “Mellissa…it’s time to wake up now.  You’re in recovery.”  My throat hurt, so I asked if I had been intubated (I had) and how long I could expect my throat to hurt.  She examined the wound and gave me something for the pain by IV.  It was 2 pm at this point and I basically waited for the next hour while the porter - for lack of a better term, but that’s what they called her, as if I was a piece of luggage to be brought to the curb.  I wonder if she gets tips? - was on a break and the nurses in recovery forgot about me.  My nurse chatted on the phone with her daughter in Frederickton for a good portion of that time, which would explain the being forgotten part.  I guess taking long-distance personal calls while on shift is okay…while the patient languishes there, desperately wanting to be let out before the local freezing in her ass wears off and she can’t make it to the pharmacy to get her pain meds…*shrug*

The porter checked on me upon returning from her break, telling me that my “Dad?” was waiting for me (Alex must be so happy to be confused for my parent).  I corrected her, saying that Alex is my friend - I think she was embarrassed.  She returned to her duties and my nurse finally wrapped up her phone call about 5 minutes later.  The porter was called and she arrived, smiling and told me that my friend had been pacing for most of my surgery.  I couldn’t help but smile at the mental image of Alex and his freakishly long legs, pacing around like something out of a Monty Python “Ministry of Silly Walks” sketch.  The porter activated the automatic door, it slid open and there was Alex, my friendly face on the other side.  It was really nice to see someone right there and he kept me company for the next 45 minutes to an hour before the nurse finally took the IV out and returned my clothes.

He bought me a doughnut on the way out (Yay!  Breakfast!), then fetched our chariot.  I tried to get my prescription filled, honest I did.  But the lady at the counter said it would be 30 minutes and the freezing was starting to wear off and I hurt like a sumbitch, so I got Alex to take me home.

Well, I’m totally exhausted and it’s almost dawn, so I’ll regale you with the rest of my day another time.

The Reader’s Digest ™ version of the whole thing is: I had my butt cut open, they took out a huge chunk of fat, I have a big dent in my butt, I hurt, but I’m okay.  Thanks for reading

Mood: apprehensive

Soundtrack: DH killing zombies

I go in for surgery on Wednesday.

I had my consultation with the surgeon this past Tuesday and she asked questions, got the history of the Fab Five (I might as well name the f*ckers, they’re not going away anytime soon), then took a look at them. She was able to find the one in my left butt cheek without any problem, which tells me that it’s gotten bigger in the last week. Great.

After examining the Five, we went back into her office and she said that in order to biopsy the big one (let’s call him Pete), she would have to make a large incision, because it is so large and so deep - great, now I’m starting to sound like Dr. Seuss book - so she might as well take Pete right outta there and have a larger sample for biopsy. My first thought was, “Great! Finally some relief!” quickly followed by my second thought, “Is this going to leave a big gaping depression in my ass?” and my third, “How badly is this going to hurt and how much help will I need with the kids while I recover?” Of course, the doctor didn’t have answers for that last one, but she did say it’s going to hurt, it’s going to swell and it’s going to bruise. At the best of times, I bruise up like a battered wife on welfare cheque day…I’m NOT looking forward to that.

Even more, I’m dreading how out of commission I’ll be. That means that DH will have to take up the slack.  He has difficulty dealing with them at the best of times, so I know that I won’t be getting much in the way of rest or recuperation, because I’ll be trying to get up before I’m ready to play peacemaker.

Let’s hope that minor surgery truly is minor and I won’t be down for long.  I don’t think the family could take it.

…until Christmas!

As a crafter, this is when I start panicking and realizing I don’t have enough time to stitch anything for anyone.  But fear not!  For I have learned a NEW craft - medieval illumination - and I have many plans afoot.  So fair warning to all my friends - don’t be surprised if you get something made by me as a gift.

For those of you who appreciate it, please let me know that you do.  Positive feedback is what will get you continuing to receive things I make.  For those of you who do not appreciate handmade gifts, try to be diplomatic - the gifts I make have many hours of work poured into them and if it’s not something you appreciate, let me know, return it and I will happily give it to someone who likes it.  Far better to do that than to throw it in the garbage.  I don’t want my time wasted and you don’t want a gift you neither like nor appreciate.

I saw the dermatologist today. She says that the lumps are not lipomas. She asked how I found them, so I gave her the full history and when I mentioned that they hurt, she talked briefly about angiolipomas and I mentioned that I had been reading up on them and talked with her about different drug therapies used to treat them. She seemed impressed that I had done some homework (thanks, Dad, for looking that stuff up) and after examining the lumps, told me that while the pain is consistent with angiolipomas, they do not look or feel like lipomas at all. She believes it is more likely panniculitis. She also asked a bunch of medical history question and said that the fact that I haven’t been sick or injured prior to the lumps appearing works to my advantage, meaning that the lumps are probably not symptomatic of something more nefarious (or cancerous, which was my main concern). She also said that this may be something that we have to watch, as it has the possibility of developing into something more unpleasant.
So she is doing what she calls “the million dollar workup” on me, sending me for lab tests (I counted 16 blood tests on the requisition form, plus urine and stool cultures - yay -not) and has recommended that I have the largest lump biopsied, as “it does not present as a typical panniculitis”..Great, even with this, I just can’t be normal… Apparently, panniculitis most often presents in the lower extremities and one of the methods of alleviating the pain is to sleep with the legs elevated. I suggested I could try sleeping with my ass in the air…

We discussed pain management and the usual therapy is heat, cold and Ibuprofen. I am allowed 400mg of Ibuprofen three times a day, for a total of 1200mg a day, which I usually take in one sitting. Mind you, she also said that if the Ibuprofen was insufficient, we could look into stronger anti-inflammatories. I have to think carefully about that, though. I have two small children to look after - I can’t be wandering around in a prescription drug-induced haze.
So now I’m going to get the lab work done in the morning and wait for the consultation with the surgeon next week. Hopefully after that, we’ll have a more definitive diagnosis. Good wishes, prayers, ju-ju and the like are welcomed and appreciated.

I kept waking up this morning, anywhere from 2:30 am onwards. I finally got out of bed at 5:16 because I couldn’t stand the pain anymore. So now I’m downstairs, waiting for the pain reliever to start working and looking for new themes for my blog.

I found a new lipoma. I now have one on my lower left back, right hip, right butt-cheek, right calf and now there’s one in my left butt-cheek. Last week, I had excrutiating pain in my right hip and I believe that the one in the butt-cheek has gotten bigger. I’m worried. It seems like the lipomas are now impeding my abilitiy to walk without pain.
I think when the doctor told me that I didn’t have your garden variety lipomas”, he might have meant angiolipoma, which is a sub-class that has a small vascular system and is often painful. Seeing as I can’t sit or sleep comfortably anymore, I think that may in fact be what I have.

My dermatologist’s appointment is tomorrow, so maybe she’ll find something systemic that is causing these thing to grow. It would be nice to know why I have them. My consultation with the surgeon is Oct 3, but I’m really hoping for a non-surgical intervention. Dad found an article about treating angiolipomas with Interferon, so there do seem to be some options out there.

Mood: happy

Soundtrack: Pocoyo on TV

Emily is learning how to say people’s names and some of her more humourous attempts are: Birdie (my friend Bridghid)= Booby; Alex=Ah-Sick; Uncle Steve=Unda Cheese.  I love this age…

Mood: relaxed

Soundtrack: Battlestar Gallactica on tv

Clinton was awesome.

It was everything I hoped it would be and more.  I got to cross another thing off my “things to try before I die” list.  I asked a very dear young lady to be my lady-in-waiting and she agreed!  I was SO happy.  We both cried and we were surrounded by friends who witnessed it.  I sat in the shade, relaxed and stitched.  I got more stitching doneinfour days than I had gotten done in the previous 6 months.  I got up when I wanted to, I ate when I wanted to, I drank when I wanted to and I went to bed when I wanted to.  It was such a nice change to not center my existence around someone else - something I haven’t been able to do for 4 years.

I watched the meteorites streak across the sky on Thursday night.  I stood in the middle of the warfield at midnight watching the Aurora Borealis on Sunday night.  I was woken up more than once by my neighbour’s noisy sex.  I was escorted on site as a lady should be.  I ate more sushi than you can shake a stick at.  I bought a bracer for archery.  I felt the intent gaze of a man during court.  I laughed, cried, felt dizzy and showered in water warmed by the sun.  I felt like a queen all weekend and I cannot wait for that chance again.

I am refreshed.

…and if it’s supposed to be my vacation, why the $%*# am I having to deal with other peoples’ crises?

I’m leaving for a much-needed, much-anticipated 4½ day (yes, that  ½ day is important to me) vacation from the constant stress of motherhood.  I am travelling with 7 friends to Clinton War, an SCA camping event.  Of course, the morning of our departure, one person can’t find their necessary paperwork (an easy fix, thankfully) and another calls to tell me their laundry - including a bunch of stuff they DON’T need for the trip - is a 20 minute drive away and they have no gas in their vehicle.  Meanwhile, I’m trying to finish the clothes I need to wear at the war, my horn needs to be fixed and I have no minutes on my emergency cell phone.  Colour me unhappy.  VERY unhappy.

I talked to my friend the seamstress and my OTHER tunic is also in a state of incompletion.  Thank God I went to Value Village and bought another sari…

I was getting a massage a couple of weeks ago and my masseuse noticed a small lump on my lower back.  She said it didn’t seem like anything to worry about, but I could tell from the tone in her voice that this should not just be ignored.  She asked me to get it checked out by the doctor.

So I went.

The doctor said it sounded and felt like a lipoma, but that due to the fact that I was having pain/discomfort around the site, she wanted me to go for an ultrasound.

So I went.

The ultrasound tech indicated that it is just a lipoma.  I said, “Great - I’m growing fat in new and interesting places…”  She laughed and explained that they occur in anybody - fat or thin, young or old…she said that some people get them on their faces.  I told her I was glad I only have it on my butt.
The follow-up with the doctor indicated it is just a lipoma.  But with that, she also said that I should not have any discomfort and that if, after three weeks, I was still having any, to come back in and we’d see about a CT scan.  It’s now five days after my follow-up appointment.

I’ve found two more lumps.

They’re both on my right hip, which has been sore for just over a week.

As you can probably imagine, this has got me very worried.  I mean, three?!?!  I can see one or a couple scattered about, but this seems like more than that.

I don’t have any more information…I just needed to come somewhere and talk about it, to try and deal with the worry gripping me.  It hurts to sleep on my side - either side.  And knowing that these masses are there makes it hard to sleep at night.  With sleep comes the dreams of worst case scenarios, testing,  operations and treatments and no relief in sight.

Somebody tell me that this is all a bad dream and that when I wake up, my body will not be this foreign thing I am trying to cope with, full of lumps, bumps and random spots.

Let it be nothing.  Please, God.  Let it be nothing.

Well, I have started down a path of exploration. I am determined that I will spend my time until I am 35 getting over all the major hang-ups I have. Some I will discuss here, others will remain private. Here’s my first one…

Read the rest of this entry »

Mood: creative

Soundtrack: “I’ve Got It Bad (and That Ain’t Good) - Ella Fitzgerald

…well, at least that’s how the song goes.

I got tagged for a meme and posted it to my Livejournal blog.  I figure, more people know about this blog, so I’d post the link here.  So, if you fit into the criteria, please comment in the Livejournal blog.  This one isn’t set up to screen comments, so if you post it here, it’s going to be a public declaration.  Fair warning.

Mood: tired

Soundtrack: Infomercial on Mum’s TV

Just in case y’all thought I’d fallen off the face of the Earth…I’m here.  Let there be great rejoicing!  Seriously, though, I’m still recovering from Inviestiture and getting prepped for Lionsdale Champions in June.  I learned a lot from this last camping experience and hope to apply it to the next one.

Emily signs “change” and “thanks” and I’m working on “help”.  She is climbing now, so NOTHING is safe.

Geoffrey is a love.  Just today, I overheard him admonish Emily with, “Emily!  I am trying to hug you!”, followed by, “Oh, Emily…you are the best little sister in the whole world!”  Had to fight little happy tears on that one.

Dad still has the c. difficile…on his third round of antibiotics (which neither Pharmacare nor Blue Cross cover, so over $8 per pill)

Jim goes for his annual lunch and review with his boss tomorrow - fingers crossed!

I’m off to sleep, then it’s a morning of hauling crap to the dump so we don’t look like white trash anymore, then helping Mama and Marion pack up their stuff in preparation for their move.  Idle hands…

Mood: creative

Soundtrack: some lame-ass “vehicles that rock” show on TV

I thought I should poke my head in here, just in case anyone bothers reading anymore. Dad is healing slowly, but the C. difficile he acquired while in hospital is not going without a fight. He’s had a round of antibiotics, but seeing as Mum is now on her FIFTH round of them, I don’t expect this is over. Surgery-wise, Dad is healing well and the scars are minimal for one who had his chest cracked open.

Geoffrey turned 4 this past month and he is a going concern. I’m just really disappointed and concerned that he seems to have inherited Jim’s bad allergies - the ones that made him fly into a rage when he was a kid. So far, it’s only manifesting as belligerence, but you can tell when it’s temper and when it’s allergies by the telltale sniffling. That said, he is a very loving, caring child, precocious and intelligent. He’s doing well at preschool and he loves to play outside.
Emily turned 1 last month and her development is astounding! She basically learns a new sign every day - today was “please”, yesterday was “hurt”. I just have to remember to sign in front of her and repeat what she’s learned so it sticks. Verbally, she says “duck”, “pretty” , “book”, “daffodil”, “ball”, “dog”, “kitty” and her brother’s name, which comes out as “deh-REE”, usually followed by a series of sounds that can only be likened to “No, no, no, don’t do that!”

I am working on a bunch of craft projects, not the least of which is new garb for my kids. G has outgrown all but one pair of pants, which are on their way to the garb exchange, too. Em is too big for all but two outfits, a tunic/pants set and a dress. With tourney season upon us, I am in dire need of T tunics and pants for the kids. So of course, I’m out buying silks and velveteen for Tudor gowns and saris and Cavalier outfits for the kids. Real practical…*shrug* Sometimes you’ve just gotta dress them up. I am also working on a largesse basket to present to our new Prince & Princess (who will be determined by right of arms next weekend). I have solicited donations from several people and my friend Lorna and I are busy making wee pincushions in our Principality colours.
Well, that’s about it here…

Mood: cautiously hopeful

Soundtrack: my kids crunching potato chips, traffic on Burrard St. outside the hotel

My father had his bypass surgery on Tuesday and the operation took over 2 hours longer than planned due to calcification around his heart. The doctor removed it and did 3 bypasses. He is up, dressed and tormenting all and sundry with his horrble puns. He may have contracted a bug and they will be keeping him in the hospital until at least Sunday, but probably until Monday. We’ve been staying at the hotel next to the hospital and if he stays in until Monday, I’ll likely head home tomorrow so I can do some cleaning and tidying in preparation for his return.

I’ll keep you all posted.

Mood: worried

Soundtrack: night-time house sounds

I haven’t felt much like posting this week.  My father is going in to the hospital for open heart surgery on Tuesday morning and I am very worried, not only for him, but also for my mother.  If you pray, please do.  If you don’t, please send out healing thoughts, good vibes, positive ju-ju, whatever you call upon to help others.  Not just for Dad, but also Mum and the medical personnel helping Dad.

Thank you.